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Barsos Ironhide
Not much is known about this Dwarf aside from his status as a Grand Champion of the Ebon Blade. Except, you know, that he destroyed a titanic robot created by a High Elven engineer by stuffing the arm cannon with a pair of Light-infused panties fired from an arcane ballistae. True story. Sergeant Barsos Ironhide, proudly risen member and Grand Champion of the Ebon Blade, can be found wherever there are patrons of the Light to harass, women and children to impose terror upon, and men whose skulls need denting inward. His already ''sterling ''reputation precedes him on most casual interactions, but when comically awful parlor tricks, disparaging remarks or comparisons to acts performed on rancid Scourge corpses leave his conversational partner unfazed, Barsos is not afraid to start an all-out brawl - friendly fire encouraged - anywhere from the Cathedral of the Holy Light to the thick of Tanaan Jungle itself. Barsos is of venerable age, even for a risen Knight, but he carries himself with an unmistakably youthful gait - even going as far as skipping along in abject joy when reveling in pain and destruction wrought. It's best to give him and his charges a wide berth, especially on the battlefield, when he's in prime form - his unholy attributes combined with traditional Dwarven physiology and hardiness, along with attentively-crafted saronite armaments and weaponry make the Son of Ironforge nigh-indestructible by conventional means. Physical Description A suit of thick and darkened saronite armor inscribed with a plethora of runes did the Dwarf wear, forged in fond remembrance of the Ironforge-issued armaments he wore with pride in life. A typical Dwarven heavy-set physique Barsos commanded; nonexclusive to the Bronzebeard line and no taller than the rest of his kin, however, his square-set shoulders and leering disposition gave Barsos the impression of being much larger than he actually was - at least for a Dwarf. During an altercation involving Ebon Blade-related matters, Barsos lost his original lower half - smashed into pieces by a wayward Flesh Giant's lost battle with gravity. Upon being patched back up in Acherus, Barsos was given the lower half of a fallen Dwarven corpse that equalized his previous height disparity. Ragged stitches and mismatched flesh tones can still be faintly seen if Barsos were to ever remove his protective plating in mixed company. Average of height for a Dwarven male yet considerably more broad and square in the shoulder, Barsos' original physical strength is only amplified to unmentionable heights by the dark power bestowed upon him in undeath, and it shows in the dispersion of the Dwarf's mass. Monstrous hands mated to equally impressive boot-shod feet, setting the stage for one of the most indomitable looking Dwarves ever witnessed. He lacked the gut most've his kin took to owning, his physique a canvas of unholy muscle strung together by darkened magics. Beneath his armor, a plethora of faded tattoos reside - two thickened black bands upon each bicep, crudely carved Dwarvish scripture, in what would appear to be long-faded lists of names upon the entirety of each forearm, and a pink heart situated above the space where his beating heart once occupied, the word 'Ruk' in long-faded ink within. For whatever reason should his shroud be removed and his visage exposed could one come to find his skin is akin to undergoing eternal frostbite, tarnished, and considerably bruised. His battle-hardened face is haggard and gruesome to behold; misshapen blotches of darkened flesh underscore rounded features, universal of a Dwarven male accentuating his broad frame. Regardless of hairstyle, Barsos' facial hair is a matted white-grey, indicative of his distinguished age; well-kept and preserved, no doubt by unholy means like the state of his body. His beard is groomed and thickly braided with particular adornments - gifts from friends and acquaintances, carefully woven in-between the thick locks of hair. Only one physical thing appears to have any sentimental value for the Dwarf; his long-faded Ebon Blade tabard, spattered with blood and viscera stains. Tattered, worn and thoroughly unfit for polite company, the well-worn cloth serves as a grim reminder for the actions Acherus' Knights, Barsos' brothers and sisters in death, were made to atone. More than once have strips of of the thick canvas-like fabric been torn off to act as makeshift life-saving bandages; clumsily they've been sewn back into place, seams off-kilter and pattern only just-so. Attempting to remove, destroy or otherwise come in contact with this tabard is certainly a death sentence, in more ways than one. Personality Traits Speaking often in blunt phrases laced with vulgarities, Barsos is not one to pontificate behind words to spare feelings, no matter what situation or setting in which he can be found. Very quick to yank untold amounts of items out from behind his beard or under his tabard; often illegal, always disgusting and intended for provoking reactions from his chosen victims. Petty insults are Barsos' go-to firestarters when usage of aforementioned items is out of the question. Pragmatic; annoyingly so to those that know when he's in the right, especially if it's not what they want to hear. Unforgiving and ruthless to those that slight him, but sporadically kind to those on his good side. Barsos holds the rank and file of the Ebon Blade above all else to his heart, and will not hesitate to launch into diatribes against those slighting or disparaging sacrifices said fellow Knights have made. An Ebon Knight with a rank above his own is one of Barsos' few innate weaknesses; whereas ninety-nine mortals will shove against him in vain, one Commander will pull, and Barsos will yield - but not without his trademark thumb-twiddling, especially if the commander in question is an Elf of any sort. Barsos also holds steadfastly to his reverent allegiance of Magni Bronzebeard, openly voicing his displeasure at the inclusion of Dark Irons into the Kingdom of Ironforge. He patiently awaits the day when - not if - his King returns, swearing up and down that Magni himself will awaken to throw the bastard son of Thaurissan into the slag pits surrounding the Great Forge. Years of life and unlife both have given Barsos insight to the innermost mindsets of most mortal creatures, and as such he can very easily sniff out when he's being misled. He does not like being misled. Do not attempt. When idle, Barsos can be seen scratching lazily at his chest or beard, seemingly indifferent to his surroundings, but the opposite couldn't be more true; his countenance hides a cold, calculating and methodical mind, always looking for the easiest way through the closest perceived enemy's sternum out of an unearthly compulsion of habit; frequently content with mentally projecting an image of skipping rope with their freshly-severed spinal cord. Category:Dwarf Category:Bronzebeard Dwarf Category:Death Knights Category:Characters Category:Order of the Ebon Blade